


The boy in the bookstore.

by patriasmarblelover



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, piningrac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patriasmarblelover/pseuds/patriasmarblelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know this is technically stalking, right?” She asked as she quirked an eyebrow at the boy, ignoring everything he said to her. <br/>“It is not! I just happen to come to the store to sit in the café that just so happens to have a wonderful view of the chairs in the poetry section that a certain cute boy happens to sit at every Wednesday and Friday from five to seven.” He replied with a cheery tone. <br/>“Yea, not stalkery at all.” Eponine deadpanned before turning on her heel to return to her post at the register, leaving Courf to walk over to the small café section of the store to order a coffee and a muffin and sit in his regular seat, checking his watch to see that it was five minutes to five and the object of his affection would be arriving soon, yes this was a bit creepy but he just couldn’t seem to build up the courage to ask this guy out despite how easy it normally was for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The boy in the bookstore.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is the first fic I have ever posted on a site so any feedback is welcomed! Also apologies for the terrible title since they clearly are not my forte. Now, go forth and enjoy the piningrac~

The minute he walked into the bookstore Courfeyrac heard a dramatic sigh from his left, he turned his head to flash a smile at Eponine who was giving him the same annoyed looked she had been giving him for the past two weeks.   
“What, aren’t you glad to see me ‘Ponine? I thought we were friends!” he exclaimed clutching his chest in mock hurt, causing the dark haired girl to simply roll her eyes.   
“You know this is technically stalking, right?” She asked as she quirked an eyebrow at the boy, ignoring everything he said to her.   
“It is not! I just happen to come to the store to sit in the café that just so happens to have a wonderful view of the chairs in the poetry section that a certain cute boy happens to sit at every Wednesday and Friday from five to seven.” He replied with a cheery tone.   
“Yea, not stalkery at all.” Eponine deadpanned before turning on her heel to return to her post at the register, leaving Courf to walk over to the small café section of the store to order a coffee and a muffin and sit in his regular seat, checking his watch to see that it was five minutes to five and the object of his affection would be arriving soon, yes this was a bit creepy but he just couldn’t seem to build up the courage to ask this guy out despite how easy it normally was for him. 

A little over two weeks ago Courfeyrac had come to the bookstore with Enjolras and Combeferre, the other two had needed to get new books and he simply had nothing else to do so he decided to join his two best friends on their little outing. They were standing in the history section and Enjolras and Combeferre debated over a book that he didn’t care enough to catch the title of when he first saw him, Courfeyrac was leaning against a shelf, looking around when he spotted a boy with a flower in his hair curled up in one of the large chairs in the store, scribbling in a notebook and sipping on what he assumed was tea. Everything around him seemed to stop, he no longer heard his friends bickering and nothing around him seemed to matter besides the boy who was currently chewing on the end of a pen, he couldn’t tear his eyes away as he inspected him, he was wearing green corduroy pants, and a white t-shirt under an open denim button up shirt, he had a few books piled up in front of him and from the titles he could read they were all poetry books.  
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Enjolras, “Courf, are you coming or not?” he snapped clearly annoyed so he most likely lost whatever argument he was having with Ferre. Courf gave a small nod before taking a mental image of the boy with the flower and followed his friends to the front counter where Eponine was working the register as she did every day.   
“Hey guys.” She greeted happily, but her smile turned to a look of confusion when Courfeyrac shoved aside his friends who were actually making a purchase to stare at the girl with a serious expression.  
“There’s a guy with a flower behind his ear back there, does he come in a lot?” he questioned, staring her down like it was some sort of interrogation, ignoring the sighs from the two behind him.   
“Uhm, he’s been coming in the past few months, he always sits in that chair and writes or reads poetry-“  
“So he’s a poet?” Courf asked dreamily, cutting her off mid sentence, thus creating the codename ‘Cute Poet Guy’ who he talked nonstop about for the next two weeks as he learned his schedule for coming to the book store and began to watch him in a totally uncreepy way from his seat in the café. 

Just as Courfeyrac was about to check his watch again he spotted his cute poet guy walk from behind a shelf and into his seat, a small happy sigh escaped past Courfeyrac’s lips as he watched him open his notebook and begin writing, right after his sigh, an annoyed one came from behind him, he turned to see Combeferre standing behind him, a few textbooks under his one arm and a coffee in his other hand.   
“Have you even spoken to him yet?” the taller man asked as he took the seat across from him, intentionally blocking his view of the poet and making Courfeyrac whine slightly.  
“Well, no.. but I can’t just go up and talk to him!”  
“Why not? You’ve done it before countless times.” Ferre pointed out as he opened a book.  
“Yea but those were different.. he’s different.”  
“You don’t even know him.”  
“I can still tell Ferre.. he just.. he makes me feel all.. warm and fuzzy and I think if I get to close I might like explode or throw up or pass out…” Courfeyrac explained sheepishly as he picked and the unfinished muffin in front of him.   
Combeferre made a face as he looked over his friend, realizing that this guy really was different and had some effect on his friend that he had never seen anyone else have on him before. He shut his book and took a sip of his coffee, “First things first, you aren’t going to get anywhere by watching him all the time, you’re going to have to eventually speak to him if you want to build any sort of relationship, so we need a plan.”  
“We?” the brunette asked looking up from the muffin.   
“Yes, we. I’m going to help you with this.” 

The two boys spent the next half hour talking and trying to form some sort of plan to get Courfeyrac a chance to talk to his cute poet guy, and while they didn’t seem to come up with any elaborate plans that were actually possible, they decided that something simple should work. So for the first time in the past two weeks, Courfeyrac left his seat in the café to go over to the poetry section, grabbing a random book from a shelf and walked over to the group of chairs, planning to sit in the one across from the cute poet and find something to start up a casual conversation. But as he made his way to the chair Courfeyrac tripped over the poets bag and landed on top of his coffee, crushing the cup with his chest and covered himself in his hot drink. He barely heard the squeak from the other man as he grunted and dropped his head to the floor, knowing that he had ruined any chance he might have had with the poet.   
He didn’t notice the guy get out of his chair and kneel next to him until he felt a hand on his back, followed by the sound of a worried voice. “Are you okay?”  
“Uh, yea.. just a bit damp..” Courfeyrac replied as he looked up so that he was face to face with the poet, and he could feel that his own face was already on fire and just getting redder.   
“I am so sorry, I really shouldn’t have left my bag there…” the other began to apologize.  
“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” Courfeyrac explained as he started to get up, setting the book he had grabbed on the table and looking down at his shirt now soaked and clinging to him, when he went down to pick up his crushed cup he noticed that another had been knocked off the table during his fall. “Damn, was that yours?”  
“Yea, it’s no big deal tho-“  
“Let me buy you a new one,” Courfeyrac started, his normal confidence starting to grow despite having just made a complete fool of himself aswell as the fact that his insides were going crazy. “After all, I did spill it and ruin your reading.”  
“S-sure.” The poet stuttered while his cheeks turned a slight pink making Courfeyrac smile even wider. “I’m Jehan by the way.” He said shyly.   
“Courfeyrac. It’s a pleasure to meet you Jehan.” He said with a grin, heart racing slightly.   
They quickly cleaned up the mess and gathered their things and Courfeyrac began to walk them toward the café when Jehan stopped him.   
“Oh, wait! Your book!” He said going to get the book from the table that Courfeyrac had already completely forgotten about since he only got it so he could talk to Jehan in the first place.   
“Oh, uh, I actually already have that so you can just leave it.” He said quickly and started walking again, leaving a slightly confused Jehan to drop the book and follow after him.   
As they made their way to the counter Courfeyrac shot a thumbs up at Combeferre who was still sitting at the table studying and simply smiled back, glad that his friend had finally gotten to talk to his crush. The two ordered their drinks and made their way over to a table once they got them, Courf grabbing a handful of napkins on the way so that he could dry off his shirt slightly once they sat.   
“So, Jehan,” Courfeyrac started, using his name happily now that he knew it, “Before I fell I saw that you were writing, working on anything special?”  
“Oh, no.. I come here a lot actually and just write poems.. It’s nice to people watch and get inspiration, and if I don’t have any I can always read a bit to get some.” He responded, his tone of voice shy as he fiddled with his hands slightly.   
“You write poetry? What about?”  
“Oh, love mostly…” Jehan said blushing.  
“Love’s always a nice topic.”  
“Do you like poetry?”  
“Oh yea! You know, poems, and poets.. and rhyming! It’s wonderful.”   
Jehan chuckled slightly, “Do you have a favorite poet?” he asked raising an eyebrow.  
“Oh, I recently found one that I really like, haven’t heard any of his work yet but he seems amazing.” Courfeyrac answered with a smile, staring right into Jehan’s eyes and making the poet go bright red and stutter slightly.   
Before he could compose himself Jehan’s phone went off and he noticed the time and his eyes went wide, “Oh, I have to go!” he muttered before taking out his notebook, scribbling something on a sheet and ripping the page out. “Thank you for the tea, it was lovely meeting you.” He said as he stood before handing the paper to Courfeyrac and walking out hurriedly. When he looked down at the paper in his hand he saw in curly writing one of Jehan’s poems, accompanied by his phone number and the words ‘call me’.


End file.
